


all i own is dust and gold

by batofgoodintent (crownedcrusader)



Category: DCU (Comics)
Genre: M/M, Soulmate AU, TimKon Week 2020, some koncassie, some timcassie
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-15
Updated: 2020-05-15
Packaged: 2021-03-03 05:13:52
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,779
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24189463
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/crownedcrusader/pseuds/batofgoodintent
Summary: Tim Drake has a golden soulmark, just like everyone else. He can blend into society, eventually get married, and start a family -- just like his parents want.It's just that the soulmark is fake. But as long as he has one, he's normal. And that's all he really needs.
Relationships: Tim Drake/Kon-El | Conner Kent
Comments: 15
Kudos: 272
Collections: TimKon Week





	all i own is dust and gold

“That’s going to scar if you’re not careful.”

Tim looked up from the mission log he was filling in. Dick leaned against one of the many unused computer screens on the side of the batcomputer. He’d have been angry that Dick was interrupting his work if he hadn’t come down with a sandwich and a zesti.

Tim reached for the plate gratefully. “I don’t think it can really be helped. But it’s already started to heal. I guess we’ll just have to wait and see.”

Before he could pull his late-morning dinner back to himself, Dick gently caught his wrist. Then he got a good look at the location of the stitched-up gash. “Right on your soulmark, too,” he said, letting out a low whistle. “What did Batman say?”

“That it needed stitches.”

“And after he said it needed stitches?”

“Then he gave me stitches.” He paused for effect. “And then the conversation was over.”

“Nothing at all? Bruce has a scar over his soulmark, too, but he can still read through it. He could help you, if you wanted to.”

“Pass. I can’t read it yet, anyways.”

“Still?” Dick’s nonchalant lean against the computers turned a little too forced. “You know, you’re almost sixteen. When I was your age, I could make out the basics. And you’re a lot more mature than I was at your age.” He paused and gave Tim a meaningful look. He glanced down at the blurry, golden letters on his arm. “I know you’re a good detective, Tim. If you could read even a few letters of your mark, you would’ve found your soulmate by now.”

Tim met his eyes sharply. “If you’ve got something to say, say it.”

Dick met his gaze with the same intensity. For a second, Tim thought he was finally going to get a glimpse of that famous Nightwing Temper. But then, Dick took a long, deep breath and let it out through his nose. “Try not picking fights with the guy who’s just trying to help you.” Then, Dick lightly punched Tim in the shoulder, full of forced good humor. “Not everyone gets the soulmate they were hoping for. No judgment if your soulmate ends up being evil. Or if they died young.”

Tim took a vindictive bite of his sandwich. Then, with a full mouth–and purposefully rude: “Is that it?”

Dick sighed again. “Yeah, that’s it. Make sure you keep that cut clean. Soulmarks are still just skin – they can get infected same as anything else.”

With that, he left, and Tim finally let himself relax.

He looked meaningfully down at his golden mark and the way it warped and faded at the edges, having grown and stretched since he was two.

Then, when he was sure no one else would enter the cave, he picked up the phone and made an appointment with a discrete tattoo parlor across town, three weeks from now.

Dick was a detective, and a damn good one at that. But if Dick could tell that his soulmark was fake so easily, then he couldn’t be the only one.

–

The latest estimates say that 95% of the world has soulmates.

When children are born, they always have a smudge of gold on their arm, just barely visible against their skin. As they grow, the smudge grows with them. And the smudge becomes clearer, little by little, until they reach maturity and can make out the name. No one else can read it–only the person who the smudge belongs to, and their soulmate.

That way, there’s no confusion if two people happen to have the same name. It’s a perfect system.

Except for the 5% born without a smudge. People like Tim Drake.

It’s not so bad, really. His parents were wealthy enough to give him a fake tattoo of a smudge. Not quite the real thing, and it warped as he aged–but even close up, it could fool most people. He’d never be able to see a name inside the smudge like others did, but others wouldn’t pity him the second they saw him, either. With a fake tattoo, he could live a fairly normal life. That normalcy lasted right up until adolescence, when most people’s names started to become clearer.

_ (Tim started hearing his peers talk about soulmarks when he turned eleven. ‘The third letter looks round, I think it’s a C– or maybe an O?’ and ‘I think my soulmate has multiple parts to their name. I wonder if they’re from another culture?’ and ‘Mine is so blurry, I’m never going to figure out who they are by the time I graduate!’ _

_ Tim had known that his soulmark was a little duller than the others’, even if no one else seemed to notice. Everyone else said that theirs always looked like it was glowing to them--but Tim’s looked exactly the same to him, and to everyone else.  _

_ But when his never moved, never cleared, never even hinted at a name underneath, he knew he had to ask his parents. _

_ To their credit, the Drakes had been exactly as honest as they needed to be. _

_ “Oh, you finally noticed? Relax, darling,” his mother had said. “Mine was fake, too. Your father’s is real, if you need advice on how to fake it. But you’ll be fine. We’ll matchmake you with someone who suits you, once you’re old enough.”) _

Tim got good at pretending, because of that.

And he got good at a lot of other things. Like listening in, and researching, and learning how to fake every facet of having a soulmate. He even ‘knew’ which letters on his fake mark that he could distinguish, and which ones were still too blurry to make out. 

But as he got better at pretending and investigating, he got better at applying those skills to things he cared about more.

Like taking pictures of Batman and Robin.

Or, when Robin disappeared and Batman grew violent and reckless in his absence, becoming Robin himself.

_ (”Tim. This job is dangerous. It could easily get you killed. What would your parents think?” _

_ “They don’t notice when I leave, and they’re gone most days. If I did die, it wouldn’t hurt them too badly. The danger doesn’t scare me, sir.” _

_ Bruce Wayne’s eyes didn’t give even a hint of an emotion. “What about your soulmate?” he finally asked. “You wouldn’t want to leave them without their match.” _

_ “I don’t have a soulmate,” he said. Out loud, for the first time. “My tattoo is fake.” _

_ Within twenty-four hours, Bruce Wayne had finally accepted him as his Robin. Tim didn’t know for sure, but not having a soulmate had probably helped.) _

_ – _

Being Robin had been a good way to keep his mind off of things. He had a few practice relationships, of course – just like everyone his age did. Ariana and Stephanie had meant a lot to him, and he could tell that he’d meant at least something to them.

Ariana hadn’t been able to make out her soulmate yet–that was why she’d dated Tim. But Stephanie’s soulmate read ‘Cassandra Cain’, who hadn’t shown up on any social media feed, newspaper clippings, or any population database to speak of. So in the meantime, she’d been willing to date Tim to beat away the loneliness.

And Tim had loved her. At least, he was pretty sure he had. Sometimes he even thought she might have loved him a little, too. But he knew that as soon as she found her actual soulmate, they would be nothing but fond memories.

Tim’s best chance at happiness would be to find someone else with a fake tattoo and create a lie with them.

It wasn’t illegal to have a fake tattoo – and there were, technically, no penalties for not having a soulmate, since it wasn’t something anyone could control. But people would start to notice you if you were in your twenties and hadn’t settled down that. They would pity you, usually – or start to come up with stories for what you must have done to deserve the lonely life.

Worse, they would start to play matchmaker until they had pushed you into a loveless relationship.

Tim just hoped that he’d never be  _ forced  _ into one. It might have been his parents’ dream for him, but if he was smart and good enough at other things, then maybe he could just put all his drive into a career. Or into being Robin.

–

As Robin took over more and more of his life, Tim felt more at peace than he ever had before. 

He got to burn energy and use skills that his parents and friends hadn’t seen a purpose for. He got to be a detective--got to put his sleuthing skills and quick-thinking to the test, every single night. 

It didn’t hurt that being Robin had nothing to do with soulmates, either.

Sure, that was how he’d met Stephanie. But after that relationship fizzled out (“ _ I’m sorry. I don’t know if ‘Cassandra’ is out there or not, but I just feel wrong about being with someone else until I know for sure. _ ”), they’d become better friends than before. 

So the only love Tim needed to care about was the love between friends. And when he formed Young Justice, for the first time in his life, he wasn’t surrounded by people who cared about Soulmates.

Cassie Sandsmark was his second in command. And like all Themyscerians, she had no soulmark. She also had no attachments to the idea of a soulmate. The only soulmate she wanted would be one that she found for herself.

Bart Allen was from the future. He had a mark, but he had no idea if he was ever going to meet the name on his arm, seeing as he had traveled back in time. He couldn’t read it yet, and he wasn’t too bothered by the idea that he’d never settle down with a soulmate.

And then there was Kon-El.

Tim didn’t like to think about Kon’s lack of a mark. He wasn’t sure what it meant for a half-human not to have one. Was his Kryptonian half stronger than the human half? Or was it because he was a clone of a full Kryptonian who hadn’t had a mark? Tim couldn’t be sure, and Kon didn’t seem to have any answers either. 

But a small part of Tim was glad Kon was like him. That the four of them were unique and markless--or effectively markless--together.

–

As much as Tim didn’t like talking about, or need to talk about it, it was still there. Like a small weight on his chest no matter where he went or what he did.

So he couldn’t help but bring it up, just this once. Casually--when it was just him and Kon, playing video games in their HQ, long after Bart and Cassie had gone to sleep.

“Do you ever wish you had a soulmark?”

Kon didn’t even pause the video game–didn’t even look up. “Not really.”

Tim looked back at the TV, trying to ignore the heat on his face. It was really that simple for Kon? “Me either,” he lied. “But I mean, sometimes it might be easier.”

“Well yeah. Easier,” Kon agreed. He stuck his tongue out a little as he played. His character pressed forward, “That’s exactly why I don’t want it.”

“Why would you want it to be  _ harder _ ?”

“It’s not that I want it to be harder! It’s just that I don’t think it needs to be  _ that  _ easy. I mean – all you have to do is know how to read, and poof, there you go, you have a soulmate. Your one perfect person. And then the rest of your life is supposed to be perfect and easy – except not, because no one seems to know how to handle it when their soulmate does something dumb, or if you guys have differences that you’d have thought your soulmate wouldn’t have. Like faith and whether you want kids or whatever. But you still have to be together because you’re  _ soulmates _ .” Kon still didn’t look up, engrossed in his game. “I’ve been talking to Kara about it a little. She says they didn’t have soulmates on Krypton. I think maybe they had the right idea.”

There was a lot to unpack there. Tim stared numbly at the screen, unsure what to even respond to at first. Then, uncertainly, “What do they do instead of having soulmates?”

“Dating,” he said with a shrug. “Marriage without soulmates. People dating other people til they find someone who’s right for them, and then they marry them. Sometimes the marriage lasts the rest of their lives, sometimes it doesn’t. Then they move on. It’s not the end of the world if someone doesn’t want to date or get married, either. They just do what feels right.”

“Sounds like they’re just stuck with practice soulmates.”

“I guess you could call it that.” Kon finally looked up, then looked quizzically into Tim’s eyes. “Why the sudden interest in soulmates, anyways?” He paused. “Can you finally read the name on yours?”

Tim snapped his eyes away. “No. No, not yet.”

Kon frowned, glancing between the mark and Tim’s face. “Isn’t it kind of weird that you still don’t know it?” he asked. “Even Bart can read his by now. He just can’t act on it because she probably isn’t from this century. And you’re way more mature, and have been for a lot longer.”

Tim bit the inside of his cheek. It was something he knew everyone was thinking – even if only Kon had the guts to actually ask. He was too old to still be unable to read his soulmate’s name. “…Maybe mine’s just broken.”

Kon looked skeptical, but didn’t argue. Instead, he just moved to sit a little closer to Tim, then bumped shoulders with him. “Well, if it is, don’t sweat it too much.”

“Right. It’s not like society’s opinion of me hinges on whether or not I can find a soulmate in the next few years.” He glanced toward the ceiling, then let out a sigh through his nose. “Sorry. It’s just… I found out that one of my practice soulmates found her real one today.”

Kon furrowed his brows. “Who?”

“Stephanie. Or, you probably know her as Spoiler.” Tim swallowed. “Her soulmate is Batgirl.” Kon’s lips formed an ‘o’ in surprise. But before he could say a word, Tim continued on, “And I’m just starting to realize that I’m really tired of being alone. I feel like I’m never going to find the person I’m supposed to be with.”

He couldn’t say ‘soulmate’ anymore; it felt too much like lying. And he was having a hard time lying to Kon.

But before he could let his thoughts wander too far again, Tim was snapped out of it by a pressure on his cheek.

“Hey. Look at me.”

Tim did, and found himself looking up at an expression he didn’t normally see on his friend. A smile – that was normal. But it was so reassuring it looked almost out of place on those strong features. Almost gentle. Kon touched his cheek to coax him into looking up at him. Then, he wrapped his arm around Tim’s shoulder and leaned close enough to press their foreheads together.

“You’re either going to find a soulmate, or you’re going to be stuck with me til you do,” he said. “-Don’t roll your eyes at me, I’d make an excellent replacement soulmate. I’m attractive. And I have a very prestigious position as a superhero.”

Tim snorted a laugh. He tried to pull away, but Kon held tight. “Right – an alien clone with a fake birth certificate and no high school diploma, whose only human connections are farmers,” he said. “Not exactly what my parents had in mind.”

For a fraction of a second – so quick that Tim thought he’d imagined it – Kon’s smile waned. Then, he grinned and shook his head.

“Hey now, I happen to be loosely affiliated with a hotshot reporter in Metropolis, too,” Kon teased. “And my other dad owns one of the biggest businesses in the world.”

“Well my other dad is even richer than yours, so…”

“Don’t turn this into a dick measuring contest, because I promise you, I’ll win.”

A surprised laugh escaped Tim’s lips. Then he shoved at Kon’s shoulder and pulled away. It got Kon to crack a grin, too, pushing him into his usual, teasing sweetness rather than the seriousness that’d overtaken him for a moment.

“We are  _ not  _ going to make a challenge out of that,” Tim said sternly. When Kon just winked, he halfheartedly punched his shoulder. Then he quieted down for a moment. A beat passed before he finally said, “But thank you.”

Kon managed a lopsided smile. Then he scooted closer to Tim and slung an arm around his shoulder. “It’s what I’m here for.”

Tim didn’t ask if Kon was serious or not – he wasn’t really sure that was the point. But it was nice knowing that he had someone who’d stick by him even if the world pitied him for not having a soulmate.

–

Tim wasn’t surprised when Kon started dating Cassie. It made sense. After all, they were both markless. And Kon had been alone ever since he’d gotten too old to date ‘practice soulmates’.

_ (Though, Tim was never quite sure if Kon’s practice soulmates had been the most appropriate. _

_ They were the sort that gave the markless a bad name. Predatory, looking for anyone who was naive enough to date someone without a mark, knowing it would never last. _

_ Some people thought it was fine for the markless to date anyone like themselves because it was so rare a condition. _

_ But in retrospect, it made Tim feel a little sick knowing how young Kon had been, and how old his markess, practice soulmates had been.) _

So it was good that Kon was dating Cassie. She was a good person. Fearless, incredible, an amazing leader, and an even better friend. Tim trusted her as a co-leader, and so of course he trusted her with his best friend.

He didn’t know why it made his heart twist when he saw them together. But it was easy enough to ignore. Kon and Cassie were, surprisingly, pretty chaste around the others on the team. 

–

Tim’s dad died before he could matchmake Tim. Or rather, before Tim could marry the match he’d planned. When he was sixteen, he introduced him to a young woman named Callie, who was also markless. And he’d very strongly hinted that the two of them would be happy together--that they would grow on each other over time, if they just gave it a chance.

From what Tim could tell, Callie was perfectly happy on her own. She was one of the markless who seemed markless for a good reason: she didn’t  _ want  _ romance or to share a bed with someone. She was perfectly happy with a close knit group of friends.

And Tim was supposed to marry her and force himself in that dynamic? No.

So when Jack Drake died, of course Tim missed his dad. But he didn’t honor his father’s wishes and marry Callie, either. He never saw her again, but he assumed she was happier this way.

He grieved his dad. But for the most part, Tim was okay. He had his teams. He had his friends. He had his new family, with Batman. And he had Robin. 

But then Stephanie died.

Then Bart died.

Then Kon.

–

“I wish he’d been my soulmate,” Cassie said, lying next to Tim in her bed. She held his hand tightly. Tim tried to imagine the pressure being more like Kon’s. Steadier. Sturdier. 

“Kon didn’t want a soulmate.”

Cassie smiled, bittersweet. “I know. But maybe if he’d had one – if I’d been his… it could have been different. Maybe he and I could have lasted.”

Tim looked over at her. And for some reason, the idea of Kon and Cassie lasting made the knife in his heart twist. He’d never minded the two of them together–always insisted on believing that it was good. That Kon deserved to have someone who loved him, and who he loved in return.

They had been drifting apart long before Kon died. But they were still together, technically, when he passed. She’d been the last person he talked to. He didn’t know if they’d shared a last kiss, or if they’d passed more like friends than lovers. And it killed him not to know. Sometimes, it even made him more angry than heartsick.

He cared about Cassie, though. So he forced a bittersweet smile. “Maybe you could’ve,” he agreed. It would have been worth it to see them last forever, if it meant Kon was alive.

Cassie squeezed his hand. Then Tim turned on his side and gave her a soft, uncertain kiss.

She returned it. Then they both laid back down, Kon on their minds. 

\--

Tim probably should have been able to figure it out when he tried cloning Kon. But acknowledging his feelings would mean understanding them. Tim would do neither. 

Besides. His real breaking point came when he lost the last stable relationships he had left. Bruce died, and Dick chose Damian to replace Tim. 

If he was cursed to not have a soulmate, he was at least supposed to have  _ friends _ . To have  _ family _ . But now his dad was dead, and so was Stephanie, and Bart, and Kon, and Bruce. 

Which left Tim with nothing and no one. 

He probably should have felt stronger emotions about it. But after his grief, there was just numbness. Numbness and growing paranoia that everyone he loved would be dead by the end of the year. That everyone unless he found a way to start bringing people back, that he was going to be alone forever. 

But Kon couldn’t be cloned. Stephanie couldn’t be Lazarus’d back to life. Bart was long gone. Same with his dad. At a certain point, he stopped trying to bring back the dead--it was too painful. 

But maybe there was hope for the living. 

If Bruce was still alive--if he’d never died in the first place--then there was still a chance, wasn’t there? 

One last chance to bring back someone he loved.

\--

“I believe you.” 

\--

Two months later, and Tim felt almost like a person again. That is, until he ran into Callie at a supermarket. It was nothing special, but there was a tension between them. Of something neither of them wanted, but that they’d managed to escape by the skin of their teeth. 

Callie hesitated. “I’m sorry I didn’t go to the funeral.” 

Tim reviewed the last year in his mind. His awkward smile turned uncomfortable. “...Which funeral?”

“Your dad?” 

“Oh.” Tim laughed. “Yeah. It’s okay. I, uh. I’ve been to a couple lately. Sorry, I wasn’t thinking. Of course you meant my dad’s.”

Callie raised both brows. “Are you okay?” 

“Yeah.” Tim gently patted the shopping basket in his hand. “I’m good. Just getting some, uh, crackers. For my family. Recent family.” 

“Does that mean you…?” She pointed to her arm, where her fake golden mark shone under the florescent lights. 

Tim glanced down. “Oh. No. I was--a different family took me, after my dad died.” 

Callie smiled, but Tim could sense the pity behind it. “I’m really happy for you,” she said earnestly. “I’m in a similar situation. But with friends.” 

No surprise there. She’d been in something similar before, already. Tim smiled a little more genuinely. “I’m happy for you, too. Really glad I didn’t marry you and get in the middle of that.” 

It surprised a laugh out of her. She covered her mouth with her hands. “Sorry,” she said. “Just--yeah. I was thinking that, too.” 

She hesitated. The space between them turned awkward. Uncertain. 

Tim was about ready to make some excuse to leave. But then,

“Are you still hoping to end up with someone?” 

“That’s no one’s business but mine.” Tim didn’t mean it to come out as sharply as it had. “Sorry. Just--I’m still figuring it out.”

Callie gave him a measured look. “Do you have someone in mind?” 

For some reason, Tim’s face turned hot. “I should really get going,” he said quickly. And without giving an answer, he hurried into the next aisle and prayed Callie wasn’t following. 

\--

“Nice place you’ve got here.” 

Most of Tim’s loft was still in boxes, and what little furniture was out was impersonal and cold-looking. It had about three times more empty space than he needed, and if he was too loud, it echoed when he talked. 

But with Kon sitting on his couch, Tim wasn’t sure if he needed to unpack anymore. It already felt a little more like home. 

The heat in his face wasn’t cooled at all by the open fridge, and Tim forced himself to stop staring only by searching the fridge for anything he could offer his first guest at his Upper Gotham loft. 

All he could find was two zestis, one of which had long since gone flat. He took the flat one for himself, then tossed the other to Kon, who caught it with his TTK. “If you must know,” Tim said, “I got the furniture from a professional interior designer.” 

“God, you would have, wouldn’t you?” 

“You have no room to talk. Your bedroom at the Kent’s had more posters than wall-space, and I don’t know if I ever saw the floor.” 

Kon raised both brows. “And you’re telling me your bedroom at your old place was any better?” 

Tim had half a mind to argue. He even opened his mouth to refute it. The only times he’d ever seen the floor was when Mrs. Mac had come around and cleaned after him. 

So instead of arguing, he just came back to the cold, uncomfortable couch in the middle of his living room and sat so he could face his friend. 

They sat in silence for a little while. 

It had been a long time since they’d had time alone, just the two of them. Team missions had picked back up ever since Kon had come back to life, and the Teen Titans had hung out a few times since then--but Tim had been too busy picking up the pieces after his year away to invite Kon over for some one on one time before this. 

After a year dead, he figured Kon was doing the same thing, too. 

But after a few minutes spent quiet enough to hear the hum of electricity in the wires above, Kon finally broke the silence. “You know, it’s funny. I didn’t think you’d still be in Gotham. Or single.” 

Tim paused, his flat zesti halfway to his lips. “What do you mean?” 

“I guess I figured you would have found your soulmate by now.” Kon managed a small, subdued smile. Then he leaned sideways, stretched horizontally across the couch with his arms crossed behind his head. His zesti rested perfectly upright against his chest. “I guess I thought you would probably have married them by now.” 

“You think I would’ve done all that and gotten married in a year? The year all my friends died?” 

“I don’t know. Maybe it would’ve encouraged you to finally  _ go for it _ , instead of waiting around.”

Tim frowned. “What exactly are you implying?”

Kon laughed quietly. Bitterly. “Nothing. Maybe I’m just thinking too much about relationships lately, since Cassie and I broke up.” 

For some reason, Tim’s heart leaped in his chest. “I’m sorry,” he said. “Did she take it too hard?” 

“Nah. She’s tough. And I think she missed me as a friend more than anything else.” Kon finished his zesti, then sat up all the way. “Why? Did you think she and I were getting back together?” 

“I don’t know.” His heart beat a little faster. It didn’t quite match his casual tone. “I hadn’t thought about it much.” 

Kon looked at him seriously--more seriously than Tim would’ve expected, given the circumstances. “Right,” he said. “She did mention something kind of interesting though. You guys really hooked up when I was dead?” 

“It was one kiss. I think we both just really missed you.” 

“Weird that you’d kiss my girlfriend because you missed  _ me _ , though.” 

“Maybe she looked like  _ Stephanie  _ and I was also missing my dead ex-girlfriend.” 

Kon winced. He leaned back, shoulders creeping up to his ears. “Sorry.”

“No, I--that was harsh. And it wasn’t why I kissed Cassie, anyways.” Tim sighed. “I get defensive when we talk about soulmates.” 

“We aren’t talking about soulmates,” Kon pointed out. “We’re just talking about relationships. Cassie and I weren’t soulmates, and neither were you and Stephanie. So what is it you’re really worked up about?” 

Tim swallowed. “Nothing.” 

Kon shifted how he was sitting on the couch. Then he put a hand on Tim’s shoulder, leaning forward until he was looking him dead in the eye. “We both know it isn’t nothing.” 

Kon was closer, now. Almost too close. And leaning in like he was going for a kiss. 

Tim closed the distance between their lips before he could second-guess himself. Before he could get in his own way again. 

The kiss felt too hot, too intense, but only for a moment. It didn’t take long for Tim to ease into it, and soon he was pulling himself into Kon’s lap and kissing him like his life depended on it--like he’d never get another chance at this, like Kon would slip away before Tim got a chance to tell him he wanted him. 

Tim didn’t know what Kon was thinking, but he kissed like he wanted this, too. 

They didn’t pull away until Tim was breathless and so worked up he might not be able to stop if he didn’t take a break. 

Kon looped an arm around Tim’s neck, keeping him close as they caught their breath. “I’ve wanted to do that for years.” 

Tim’s face felt hot. Too hot to hide. He was sure Kon had to feel it burning, even with the space between their faces. “You have?” 

“But you had a soulmark, and if there’s one thing I learned pretty quickly after detubing, is you don’t hook up with someone with a soulmark.” 

Tim swallowed thickly. “It’s fake.” 

“You think I couldn’t guess that by now? I didn’t even know there  _ were  _ fake soulmates until two years ago. Thought it was weird as hell that someone as smart as you hadn’t figured out who their soulmate was, but I wasn’t about to pry.”

“But you did. Was it--did you just figure that out today, or?” 

“Dying makes you realize things.” 

Kon leaned closer for another kiss, because if Tim could talk, then they could go back to the heat of the moment they’d been in. Once they parted for breath again, Kon leaned his forehead against Tim’s. 

It was just as intense as before, but this time, it was a little slower. A little deeper. They had a chance to explore, this time. A chance to make this work. 

It didn’t take long for Kon to push Tim flat on his back against the uncomfortable, lonely couch. He knelt over him, knees on either side of Tim’s hips. But when he leaned down to kiss him again, Tim held a finger against his lips. 

A pause. A moment to breathe. A moment to talk. Kon obliged, instead sitting back on his hips. 

“You don’t believe in soulmates at all, do you?” Tim asked, looking up at Kon’s eyes. “You’ve said it before. Has anything changed?” 

“No.” Kon managed a bittersweet smile. “I’m sorry. I’m not part of your Earth system. I don’t believe that I have some perfect match chosen by a divine force, and that everything is going to be perfect between us just because a golden tattoo says so.” 

“I’m not part of the system either, though.” Tim reached up and held Kon’s hand. “So where does that leave us?” 

Kon gave his hand a soft squeeze. “I think that’s for us to figure out.” 

It was as good of an answer as Tim was going to get. So he leaned up and caught Kon’s lips again, then pulled him down on top of him until there was barely space between them to breathe. 

\--

Later, when they were bare and sated and lying on top of each other in the lazy afternoon heat, Kon took hold of Tim’s hand. But this time, he didn’t hold it just to lace their fingers together and be pressed palm to palm. This time he did it so he could pull it close enough to examine Tim’s golden tattoo. 

“I wish I’d known it was fake a long time ago.” Kon glided his fingertips over the tattoo. “It looks really similar to all the other ones I’ve seen. How long have you had it?” 

Tim lowered his head. They were together now, in their own way--but that didn’t mean that the hurt of the last several years had been erased. “Since I was two.” 

“This looks too fresh to be almost twenty. You had to have gotten it retouched.” Kon glanced up, a sliver of confusion in his eyes. “Why did you keep up the charade?” 

“My parents wanted me to marry someone else who had a fake. That way I could be normal.” 

Kon’s fingertips paused right on the edge of the tattoo. “And you wanted to be normal?” 

Tim swallowed thickly. “I don’t know what I wanted. I was too young to know what love even felt like. Let alone plan my future for someone I’d never met and who was destined to be as lonely as I was.” 

Kon pressed a soft kiss to Tim’s hairline. “I’m sorry.” 

“Nothing for you to apologize for. I was the one who never questioned the system, even when I wasn’t even part of it. I didn’t have to be lonely.” 

“And you don’t have to be normal, either.” Kon finally let go of his wrist, instead holding his hand so they could press palm to palm, fingertip to fingertip. “I don’t need you to be normal. I just need you to be yourself.” 

Tim matched his smile. “That’s the sappiest thing anyone’s ever said to me.” 

“Yet,” Kon teased. “I’ve barely even gotten started.” 

Tim laughed, then leaned forward for another kiss. He couldn’t help but pray that there would be thousands more to come. 


End file.
